Free Web NovelOne-day dessert café ended successfully. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
It was nothing short of a gold rush.
As people posted proof shots on social media and word of mouth spread, customers queued up until closing time.
Even after the production team cut off the waiting line, it still took a full hour for it to dwindle.
“Thank you very much. Have a great day!”
After seeing off the very last customer, the entire cast gathered in the hall.
Once the cleanup and final accounting were done—
As soon as the camera’s red light went off after the ending line, our PD led the applause on behalf of everyone.
“You’ve done great work these two days!”
“Thank you for all your hard work!”
We clapped for one another like comrades who had survived a tough battle together.
We felt like we could have gone out for a meal together, but sadly we each had far to go.
They had to return to Korea for filming, and we had our own Taiwanese promotion schedule.
Waving at one another with regret, we said our goodbyes.
“Today was so much fun!”
“See you again in Korea!”
“Thanks for everything!”
Our PD stepped aside to thank Seok-hwan hyung, who had come to pick us up.
“I thought we were done for. The moment Se-jin sprained her wrist, everything went black. I kept seeing the director’s face and the report forms in front of me. If it weren’t for you guys, today would’ve been a total disaster.”
He promised to edit our footage to highlight our success.
“I see, I see.”
Seok-hwan hyung smiled gently but looked bewildered.
You could practically see him thinking, Are my guys really baking bread and serving like pros?
As soon as we got into the car, our managers bombarded us with questions.
“What on earth did you do over there?”
They all knew about the Wu-Zhenmin incident from the morning news, but had no idea what had happened at the café.
As we recounted one episode after another until closing time, they were left speechless.
“So you guys baked instead of the pâtissier, and customers loved it?”
“Yes, so many of them did.”
Bi-ju answered proudly, and I drew a proud little heart in the air with my finger.
“...”
The managers looked at each other.
They nodded in disbelief, wearing warm smiles.
Seok-hwan hyung chuckled.
“I thought you guys were up to something.”
“...?”
“You’re just being yourselves.”
Our head manager said,
“I feel relieved now. I would’ve been more worried if nothing had happened. This way at least we know you’re in action.”
“Exactly. I feel so much better. What about Wonseok?”
“He’s unfazed. I guess I’ve gotten used to this, too.”
We all exchanged knowing glances.
What’s up with that?
They weren’t looking worried—they’d already assumed we’d cause some kind of stir on the variety show, and were just curious about the details.
Before long they were discussing among themselves, Should we find a baking variety show for them? What about That’s Incredible? Let’s have them as guests on Master Chefs. We squinted at one another.
“I feel like our image is getting weirdly shaped.”
“Right? The way the head manager and our managers look at us feels... different.”
“We have been acting strange lately, you know.”
“We have?”
Ri-hyuk, scribbling in his notebook in the corner, looked up.
“Leave me out of that.”
“Why?”
“I’m obviously the only sane one here.”
“Oh really...”
When we made sour faces, his pale cheeks flushed red.
“No, it’s true. Is there anyone saner than me here?”
When the four of us raised our hands, Ri-hyuk scowled.
“You guys have no conscience.” freeweɓnøvel.com
“Honestly, you can’t be the sane one. And besides—”
While my younger brothers nodded vigorously, I said,
“The sanest member of NewBlack is me, not you.”
“...”
They shook their heads emphatically as though headbanging,
“Guys? Why won’t you admit it?”
“Shaking our heads.”
“Don’t just make sound-effect gestures with your mouth, Jung-hyun.”
“...”
“No, say something! Come on.”
When they turned away as if they hadn’t heard a thing, I felt indignant.
It was like being looked at as if I were a sweet potato stuck in a ginseng field.
Then Ri-hyuk made a suggestion.
“Then why don’t we settle this once and for all? See who really is the sanest.”
On the way back to the hotel, a heated debate ensued.
We began campaigning for ourselves like in an election, boasting of our sanity.
By the end, when it got childish—“The soufflés said so!” “Wanna join our fan café right now? Go on?”—
“Why don’t we ask the managers?”
“All right.”
At our youngest’s suggestion, we called over the managers and explained the whole situation, asking for their opinions.
Seok-hwan hyung looked troubled.
“So, who among you do you think is the sanest?”
He nodded thoughtfully, then sank us with a simple conclusion.
“Sane people don’t have these debates.”
Even thinking it over again, there was no better answer.
After washing up and primping at the hotel, we officially began our Taiwanese promotions.
First up was a TV interview.
Just as in Korea, Taiwan had an MTV, and we appeared on its show introducing overseas artists.
We chatted excitedly alongside two MCs who conducted the talk in English.
Myself and Ri-hyuk, both fluent in English, led the conversation, with Bi-ju chiming in occasionally.
Jung-hyun and Ji-ho provided laughs through antics and aegyo.
We played a simple game trending in Taiwan, laughed, and enjoyed ourselves. The atmosphere was lively.
After the TV segment, we headed straight to a shopping mall in downtown Taipei.
We were there for a public fan signing, and as soon as we passed through the entrance, the crowd screamed.
“Kyaaa!”
“Whoa, what is this!”
Ri-hyuk, startled, hid behind me and Jung-hyun, prompting laughter from the Taiwanese fans.
“Ahem.”
I cleared my throat and walked on coolly, but Ji-ho burst out laughing and teased me. The rest stifled giggles.
We tried to act as if nothing had happened, but to no avail.
Given the flashing lights, they must have taken every possible photo by now.
Seated on the platform in the mall’s central atrium, we greeted our fans.
At first it felt strange.
They spoke in an unfamiliar language but called themselves our fans.
“I’ve really wanted to see you!”
They spoke excitedly, and although I welcomed them with a smile, I couldn’t help feeling slightly stiff.
It wasn’t that I’d never seen Taiwanese people before.
After a full day of café work, I was quite used to hearing Chinese.
It was just that thinking of them as our fans felt unfamiliar—overseas fans.
Unlike the number-one spots or rookie awards I’d dreamed of, overseas fans were something I’d never pictured in my mind.
I’d thought, Oh, we have foreign fans too, when I saw English or hanzi comments on M-Tube or live streams, but I’d never imagined them in person like this.
Frankly, who could believe it? That so many people across the sea in a foreign land would like us.
And yet.
“They’re here.”
There they were before my eyes.
They looked exactly like our soufflé fans back in Korea, which made me startle.
Their eyes shone as they gazed at us.
Whenever I took a sip of water or brushed dust off my brothers’ clothes, their heads turned this way and that.
Each time I said in Chinese, “Please come over” they brightened.
When our eyes met, their throats bobbed up and down in excitement.
Suddenly I realized that fans are the same everywhere in the world, regardless of nationality or race.
The word “soufflé” that I’d defined alone in my mind now felt much broader.
My brothers seemed to feel the same way.
The ones who had approached customers so freely in the one-day café had at first spoken shyly here, then warmed up to it just as quickly as I did.
Of course, it helped that these fans had approached us first, unlike the general public we’d had to approach ourselves.
“Uh...”
A fan who came forward timidly spoke to me in Korean.
“I learned Korean.”
“Wow, you’re good. How did you learn it?”
“M-Tube. Books. Academy...”
The soufflé fan, struggling with Korean, pointed alternately at herself and us with trembling fingers and said,
“I learned it because I wanted °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° to talk to you like this.”
“...”
“I like you.”
“...”
At those words, time froze for a moment.
I opened my mouth, unable to speak, as something welled up in my chest.
I nearly blinked back tears while signing, wearing a pained smile.
“If you say things like that I’ll cry, really.”
“Don’t cry. That would be a problem.”
At the fan’s urgent plea, my tears receded and a laugh burst out like a sneeze.
Because fans like her tried so hard to reach out to us, we were able to relax and get back to our usual selves.
Our first overseas fan signing.
Seeing soufflé fans in another country felt similar to meeting our fans in Korea.
Warm and comforting like the sweet breads we’d made today.
With a lump in my throat, I looked up at the clouds and moon through the mall’s glass ceiling and smiled quietly.
This is nice.
For the first time, I felt that way.
I was so glad we had taken the plane here.
If we come again someday, I know I’ll still be nervous, but I’ll think it’s worth it.
As each fan left, I gently held their hand and conveyed my feelings wordlessly.
“Thank you. Really.”
It was heartfelt.
The day after the signing, NewBlack’s showcase was held at a venue in central Taipei.
After calling in over a hundred journalists and conducting a Q&A and performance, general admission began.
“Ah. I’m so nervous. So nervous.”
“Take a deep breath, take a deep breath. Don’t shake.”
“You’re shaking too, you know.”
As the line steadily moved forward, Taiwanese fans rubbed their hands and stamped their feet in excitement.
They were more nervous than the performers on stage.
The hundreds of fans who entered strode through the dim auditorium to find their seats.
Among those holding placards or disposable light sticks, someone whispered to a friend,
“I’m so nervous. I’ve only ever seen them in videos. I wonder if they look the same in real life?”
“I heard they had a fan signing at the mall yesterday, so I went. The line was too long to get an autograph, but I watched from a distance.”
“What was it like?”
“They shine. Like Maitreya Buddha with a halo behind them!”
Her friend’s animated description sounded so surreal.
Really that much?
I’d become a NewBlack fan since the Masquerade, but she knew every scrap of NewBlack trivia.
Still, it was hard to believe.
“In person looks better than on camera?”
Even on TV their visuals seemed like they could shatter the screen—how could they seem even more dazzling in real life?
I judged her account a bit exaggerated and turned my attention to the venue’s VCR.
Each member’s name in traditional characters and their individual photo flashes across different colored backgrounds.
“...They’re so beautiful.”
Before long, the auditorium lights began to fade.
“It’s starting...!”
As silhouettes hurried from behind the curtain, screams erupted.
“How can even their shadows be that pretty?”
At that moment, blue lights poured down onto the five figures assembled in formation on stage.
Ta-at!
NewBlack members in sky-blue shirts and jeans.
A crisp fireworks-like prelude began, and as each of the five idols smiled and reached out, the audience felt a visual shock.
Like brushstrokes in an ink painting, every outline and stage border looked exquisitely delicate.
“This is insane....”
Someone who’d laughed at the Maitreya comment earlier now had goosebumps watching the distant stage.
“It’s real.”
It wasn’t just their visuals.
First, their voices.
“It’s really live.”
Soft, sweet voices flowed out.
Like coloring a blank sheet, five distinct vocal colors blended harmoniously.
The song itself was so good you wanted to close your eyes and just listen—but fans couldn’t tear their eyes away from the stage.
How to describe it?
The performance felt alive with energy.
Truly fitting the title “Fireworks,” you felt explosions of sound in time with the song’s progression.
After briefly marveling at the unity of the five voices, fans quickly began chanting the support chants they’d practiced.
At once, something like happiness flickered on the members’ lips as they moved across the stage, then vanished as quickly.
That sight drew cheers.
“Waaaaah...!”
The refreshing opening stage ended in heat.
NewBlack members, smiling amid the applause, waved as they cooled off.
When the MC stepped onstage and the five lined up side by side—
The leader, looking at the members, gently parted his lips.
“二 三”
The five bowed their heads in unison and greeted,
“大家好 我們是 The New Black!”
After the group greeting, the members began to smile and introduce themselves.
Taiwanese fans felt something strange.
Just moments ago they’d seemed from another world with those graceful movements and voices, but now they felt so familiar.
While one member introduced himself, fans giggled at whatever was funny, their eyes wide as saucers, waving and blowing hearts—it was utter chaos.
Whenever there was a pause, a member hurried to the mic and said,
“I love you all!”
“I love you more.”
“What are you saying? I love you the most. You can’t even read a single character of Thousand-Character Classic...”
Three of them bantered foolishly while the other two smiled gently or clicked their tongues in mock dismay.
It was a strangely familiar scene.
And then the conversation veered off into the mountains at lightning speed.
“Kya! That’s so funny!”
“Uh, NewBlack, please...”
The interpreter-MC waved cue cards with a panicked expression.
“Um, let me host this properly. Excuse me!”
“Kya-hahaha!”
“This is amazing! Let’s build a house here and live forever!”
Amidst the nonstop audio onslaught, fans laughed continuously while the host looked tortured.
It was a familiar sight in a pleasing way.
But it was also novel.
“He speaks so well...”
We were astonished to see our leader speak Chinese so fluently, as if he’d lived in Taipei for over ten years.
“Truly Wu-Zhenmin...”
Every time that happened, something amusing followed.
During the Q&A, whenever a difficult question in Chinese came up and the members answered in Korean,
The interpreter would translate, and the fans who’d been staring blankly would shout “Ah!” in delight.
But Woo-jen... no, Woo-joo was different.
“Back when I was a trainee, a Taiwanese friend told me to visit Taipei. If I’d known it was this great, I would’ve come sooner. Next time I’ll bring my grandmother along.”
While Taiwan’s soufflé fans cheered that, the other Korean singers stared blankly.
They tilted their heads like puppies trying to understand human speech.
“...?”
Then the interpreter explained Woo-joo’s words in Korean.
“Ohhhh...!”
As the members clapped and nodded in understanding, fans erupted in cheers.
“It feels like everything’s backwards.”
Although the scene felt strange, who cared?
It was fun.
Everyone laughed joyfully.
The atmosphere soared.
“Waaaaah...!”
Even as we walked backstage after the Masquerade stage, the fans’ cheers never stopped.
“Ugh, I’m dying.”
Our sweat-soaked maknae gulped down a bottle of water and wiped his lips.
“Wow, this is unreal. This showcase is totally different from what I imagined.”
“Right? It feels like a concert.”
We all nodded in agreement.
Officially it was called an Asia tour showcase, but it felt more like a full concert.
“Phew.”
We changed costumes quickly beneath the stage.
When Ri-hyuk staggered removing his shirt, I caught him.
“You okay?”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
He waved off my concern, but he looked exhausted.
We all did.
After yesterday’s unexpected flood of café customers, we were completely worn out.
We were surviving on patches, literally.
Especially Bi-ju and I, who had been baking—we were plastered in pain patches from head to toe.
Smiling at my brothers as they changed with difficulty, I said,
“Just a little more.”
“...Yes.”
We changed while the scent of patches lingered.
I glanced at the host onstage conducting a raffle event, then turned to my brothers, who had finished preparing.
“You ready?”
They all nodded.
It was almost the final stage.
It was time to give our fans—who had waited so patiently—a surprise gift.
